


Speak Up

by kibouin



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Gen, Mute Akira, Muteness, No Metaverse (Persona 5), Sign Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-07 19:46:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11630613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kibouin/pseuds/kibouin
Summary: Silence had always been a part of his life for as long as he could remember.A baby that couldn’t cry out for attention always had it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for a prompt from the latest set on [personakinkmeme](http://personakinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/993.html): 
> 
> "Akira really IS a silent protagonist. He was born mute and has never been able to talk."

The students of class 1-2 at Shujin Academy fell silent as their attention was drawn to the new student that walked in. Following him was a young woman in a casual pantsuit outfit. All eyes were locked on them. Akira hated this part.

**-**

Silence had always been a part of his life for as long as he could remember. A baby that couldn’t cry out for attention always had it. No one took their eyes off him for fear of injury or sickness befalling him. When Akira was still an impressionable kid, he used to think adults were playing games with him when they waved their hands around while still talking, so he mimicked them, sans the talking. It was only several months later, the child came to realize that the adults were “talking” to him with their weird gestures.

After that, Akira learned a whole new language. He learned how to spell his name with his hands. Five years later, he created a name sign that many agreed suited him perfectly.

Seven years later, his translator was his voice as he introduced himself to a new classroom with a series of smooth hand gestures. When met with blank stares, Akira cleared his throat and asked permission to use the chalkboard, courtesy of the woman at his side. The homeroom teacher stepped aside, indicating that he could have the podium. Akira picked up a piece of chalk and carefully wrote his name out on the board. He stepped aside for everyone to see and pointed to his chest.

A hand rose from the row and the homeroom teacher indicated for the student to speak. “Is he deaf?”

Akira’s eyes narrowed. ‘ _I’m right here_.’ He raised his hands, signing in a lazy fashion that had his translator smiling.

“I can hear you just fine,” the woman spoke on his behalf. “I just can’t speak. No, it wasn’t because of an accident or traumatic experience. No, my translator won’t be in every class. She’s just here for introductions.” Akira’s hands fell, his silent tirade complete. “I have a life,” the woman laughed, slapping Akira playfully on the shoulder.

The brunet smiled at her, keeping his eyes averted from the class. He could feel them all staring and knew these would be the longest three years of his remaining high school life.

The homeroom teacher clapped softly, gaining everyone’s attention. “If we don’t have any more questions…” She pointed to the empty desk in the second row from the window, third from the front of the classroom. “If you’ll take your seat, we can go ahead and start this first day of school.”

Akira wordlessly thanked his translator and she gave him a brief hug before seeing herself out. A family friend that felt more like family. With a soft sigh, he allowed his school case to slip from his shoulder as he made his way through the desks to his own. He hung it on the hook and quietly took his seat. Voices floated over and all around him, yet no one addressed him. Akira preferred it that way.

**xxx**

There was a separate notepad that he carried for talking. When addressed to answer questions about the curriculum, he wrote his responses in it and stood to show them. Sometimes his answers were right, sometimes they were wrong. As the days passed, many of the teachers came to realize that Akira was just another student. They threw chalk at him when he daydreamed, called on him more often than other students. Many saw he was very capable and wanted to expand on his learning. None of his classmates ever interacted with him.

When he reached his last ten pages, Akira wondered if he should invest in a dry-erase board. It was time to visit the bookstore in Shibuya.

**-**

The clerk at the counter smiled brightly when he approached, hands folded together at his front. “How may I help you today?”

Akira had long since giving up finding someone he could converse with using his hands. His fingers still twitched on occasion, but he knew better than to expect anything. He fished out his smaller notebook and scribbled into it, handing it over. The young man grinned as he read the message and unfolded his hands. Akira’s eyes widened at the question signed to him— _what size_?—and a burden he’d carried for  _too_  long slowly rose from his shoulders. He shoved the small notepad back into his pocket, his hands a flurry of descriptive movements.

“Wait, wait,” the clerk laughed, holding up his own hands.

The brunet flashed a sheepish grin, offering a gentle apology.

“I can understand you, but not if you get so excited.” The tawny-haired young man made his way from behind the counter. He had no other customers other than the student, so it wouldn’t hurt to show him their small selection. “I’m surprised you came here first, what with the convenience store being nearby.” At the soft tap to his shoulder, the clerk turned around.

 _Bookstore_ , Akira signed.  _Seemed like a good decision_.

“Of course,” the clerk laughed. “Well, we have a few in the back. You’re probably looking for something eight by eleven. Maybe larger. You don’t want to carry an entire signboard with you.” Akira shifted his bag off his shoulder, patting it. “You want it to fit. Gotcha. I’ll show you what we have, and then I’ll check our logbooks to see if we can special order anything.”

With a bright smile, the student signed his thanks before giving his attention to picking a board. A handful of customers came and went before Akira finally decided on what he would be purchasing. Something slim, but not flimsy. It needed to withstand falling from his hands. He grabbed another notepad on his way back to the counter.

“Will that be everything?” the clerk inquired, signing along with his spoken words.

Akira nodded, unable to wipe the smile from his face. His order was rung up, he paid, and thanked the kind young man. With a few parting signs, he headed for the door, only to have something else catch his eye on the way there.

Three new books later, Akira left the store with the thought that his new life might not be so bad after all.

* * *

Friends were few and far between—always had been. Nobody stuck around when you couldn’t laugh at their jokes, no matter if they were good or bad.

Akira didn’t mind. It meant less people for him to try and tolerate. What he did enjoy was going to the bookstore once he finished his current stack of books. The clerk would always laugh at him and warn him not to spend all his money buying books. Akira would merely shake his head in an empty response. His family still spoiled him, to this day. They still paid for the apartment where he currently lived, plus he received a weekly allowance that was too much in his opinion. If he was going to blow his savings, why not do it and become an intellectual?

The young man behind the counter simply smiled and ran up the student’s purchases. He handed Akira his bag with a friendly thank you, and sent the boy on his way. “Oh.” Akira stopped, glancing over his shoulder. “We started carrying books on beginner’s sign language,” the man informed him. “I’ve had three people come in to ask about it. Could it be because of you?”

Dragging his school case from his shoulder to stuff the books inside freed up Akira’s hands.  _Your guess is as good as mine_.

The clerk flashed him a wide grin. “I won’t tell you who they are—privacy policy and all that, but be on the lookout!”

With a smile and an OK sign, Akira left the bookstore.

**xxx**

Akira stayed on the lookout for almost two months, but no one ever talked to him the way he “talked”. He realized he was chasing an impossible dream and decided it was time to stop. Let the dream go and focus on the  _now_. He had exams he needed to study for, and various school-related events that begged for his attention.

There were also events that he chose to ignore, but were required in his high school life. He listened to everyone—knew everything that was happening within the walls of Shujin. The rise of the volleyball team; the fall of every other sports team; the disbandment of the track team and the devastating humiliation of its ace member. Akira tried his best to avoid it all, letting the news in one ear and out the next. He had no voice; why speak up? 

* * *

Summer break meant he could go home and visit his family. They met him at the station with flailing arms and hurried signs. Akira could finally relax and be himself for the next several weeks.

Or so he thought.

Being home also reminded him of the one time he  _had_  chosen to speak up. It was the reason why his parents shipped him away. “It’s for you own good,” they’d whispered with comforting hugs. His disability had won him a favor with the judge, which reduced his sentence.

Akira shivered as he stared down a dark and familiar street, even with the warmth of the season wrapped around him. If he closed his eyes, he could still hear the woman’s protesting screams. He thought he’d been doing the right thing—‘ _I_  was  _doing the right thing_ ,’ he reminded himself. A damsel in distress and a young prince that decided to rescue her. He never thought the dragon would be a politician in disguise. Akira would have gladly faced off against a real dragon.

With a shake of his head, banishing the past, the dark-haired teen continued past the street and to his original destination.

**xxx**

Summer break came and went, and soon Akira was being waved off at the station so he could return to his book-laden apartment back in Yongenjaya.

* * *

Despite being a student at Shujin Academy since his first year, Akira really didn’t know anyone. It was his second year now, and he was in a new class, seated behind a blonde with twin-tails. Her ice-blue eyes as cold as winter, were fixed on the world outside of the window. Akira carefully took a seat, trying to make as little noise as possible. He didn’t have to try too hard.

Kawakami introduced herself as their homeroom teacher and the new year was underway.

**xxx**

Akira recalled reading a poem somewhere that stated  _April showers bring May flowers_. There was a meaning to that phrase, but he felt it had no relation to the current weather of the new month. He knew today was going to be a rainy day and still managed to forget his umbrella. Akira stood beneath the awning of some fancy boutique, watching other students run by as he contemplated making a dash for it as well.

Tearing his gaze from streets ahead of him, the brunet looked up just as someone else joined him beneath his temporary sanctuary. A white hood was pushed back and ashen blond hair tumbled free. ‘ _Oh. She sits… in front of me_?’. Akira had a minor epiphany after recalling why she seemed so familiar. He was useless with remembering names because he would never be able to call out and gain anyone’s attention. His epiphany, however, brought with it emotions he always tried to bury.

Lost in his head, and staring beyond the girl’s shoulder as he tried to sort his thoughts, Akira failed to notice the way she studied him as he had just studied her. He also missed the soft smile that graced her lips before she turned away. They stood in silence, each lost in the confines of their own minds, until the rumble of an engine and tires moving across wet asphalt drew both their attention.

Akira watched the interaction between the driver and his awning companion with little interest. When he was offered a ride to school as well, he turned it down with a wave of his hand. As he lowered his hand, he had the perfect view of the blonde's profile after she was properly situated in the car. Akira's eyes slowly widened. It was lost to him after the window was rolled up, but there was so much pain in the depths of her eyes, they’d darkened to a sea-green. His fingers curled into a tight fist that he pressed against his thigh. ‘ _I wanted to ask what's wrong, but I have… no voice._ ’

 _Speak up_!

Akira opened his mouth, but the car was already pulling away from the curb. He pressed his lips together and stepped back under the awning.

No sooner had he done so, another student ran up, his footfalls splashing through the standing water on the sidewalk. He slowed to a jog before finally stopping several feet from where Akira stood. There was a muttered curse of “perverted teacher” and Akira quickly realized this blond’s goal had been to reach the car. He lowered his gaze, staring at the distorted reflections the raindrops caused. The damsel in distress already had a prince to rescue her from the dragon.

Akira lifted his head and took a startled step away from the russet-colored glare cutting through him. Never before had anyone ever paid him such close attention; it was somewhat unnerving.

“Wha’dya want?” was growled in a low voice.

Akira fumbled with his bag, stalling when he reached for the zipper. It was raining. He couldn’t use pad or dry-erase board in this weather. With a resigned and silent sigh, he slipped the straps of his school case back onto his shoulder and raised his hands to slowly sign,  _Nothing. Hiding from the rain_. He exaggerated on “rain”, hoping the teen would still understand.

The blond’s glare fell away, his eyes widening with a sharp clarity. “You’re that dude…”

‘ _Dude_ …’ Akira repeated in his head. At least he was known around the school.

“I saw you in the bookstore one time,” the unnamed student continued, kicking at a puddle. “Through the window. You looked… different than when you’re at school.”

 _I’ve never seen you_ , Akira signed. But that’s only because he made it his mission to avoid confrontations and situations such as this one unfolding. When an eyebrow was raised at him, almost condescendingly, he tried to play charades. Akira pointed to his eyes, then at the boy, before shaking his head. Shock replaced irritation, and a muttered, “…you don’t know,” was the response Akira received.

“Sakamoto Ryuji,” the blond announced, shoving his hands in his pocket and leaning forward in a slouch.

Akira fished out his phone, figuring it would be easier this way. He typed his name into a new Memo and held it out for the other to see.

“Kurusu… Akira.”

Akira lifted one hand and slowly began spelling out his name, mouthing along with each sound his fingers created. Not that it mattered; he just wanted a reason to sign.

Sakamoto looked from his hands to his face with a bored expression. “The rain’s not too bad,” he mumbled, ignoring Akira’s motions. “We better hurry up before we’re late.”

Akira sighed softly and stepped out from beneath the awning and into the light rain. Recalling an earlier comment from his fellow student, he unlocked his phone again and typed in a new question in the open document. He held out his phone for the other to read.  _How did I look in the bookstore?_

The blond rubbed the back of his neck in thought, staring out at the streets and the cars that drove by. “Happy.”

**xxx**

Akira was a little wary once he and his new companion turned off the beaten path. No harm would befall him by the teen's hands—a gut feeling told him so, but if someone else were to attack them in the cloud-darkened alleys, he would be of no help. Akira quickly glanced backwards after hearing a splash from behind him, but the only thing unsettled and showered in light was the puddle he'd just walked through.

"Oi... Hurry up."

He turned back around to find Sakamoto waiting, a surly frown on his face. Akira quickened his steps, following the blond from the mouth of the alley to the bottom step of Shujin Academy's main gates.

Sakamoto hesitated, toeing the edge of the step with his shoe. "If you walk in with me, people are gonna start talkin' 'bout you." A self-deprecating grin twisted at Sakamoto's lips. "I'm the school's pariah, after all."

 _Big word_ , Akira signed.

The blond sighed with a roll of his eyes. "I don't understand that..." He trailed off and Akira stepped up onto the same step as him, eyes searching the blond's face. Sakamoto was guarded, but still... not. His eyes were just like his classmate's. He carried a deep hatred for someone within the halls and walls of this school, but still looked out for others.

Pressing the tips of all but his index and middle finger together, Akira gave his wrist gentle snap downward.  _Later_ , he mouthed. Sakamoto stared blankly back at him, blinking slowly. Akira repeated the motion, moving his lips slowly in hopes that the other boy would read them.  _Do it. It's simple_.

With a frustrated growl, the blond pulled his hand from his pocket and executed an angrier version of the sign shown to him. Akira worried the other boy's wrist may have snapped, but he was shrugged off and left alone on the front steps of the school. With a sigh, the brunet took his time climbing them. Once inside the school building and on the second-year hallway, he made a pit stop at the bathroom to dry off.

The wide brown eyes staring at him via the wall mirror told him his new companion had thought the same thing as well.

Akira avoided that piercing gaze, going to the farthest towel dispenser. He pulled out a few pieces and started on his hair first. From there, he brushed off his shoulders, then his school bag. Akira ignored the movement behind him and continued his efforts of ridding himself of raindrops. He also made a mental note to keep an umbrella in his bag, always. It would come in useful during the hot months as well. Once he was through, Akira tossed the papers in the trash and turned around, only to have surprise wash across his face. Sakamoto was still there.

"Your hair..." the blond muttered, indicating to his own blond and short strands.

Akira smiled faintly and shook his head. The curls bounced and bounced before settling into a wild order. With a scoff, the other teen swept out of the bathroom.  _'Maybe... he's just as glad to have someone to talk to as I am_?' His smile growing wider, Akira hurried from the bathroom. He was quick enough to see the Sakamoto disappear into a nearby classroom. Unfortunately, his was at the opposite end of the hall.

When the dark-haired teen entered, Kawakami frowned, but then her face relaxed into an understanding smile. "No umbrella?" Her student shook his head. "No problem. I haven't discussed anything important yet."

Akira bowed his thanks and quickly made his way to the window seat. The twin-tailed girl tore her gaze from the rain outside to stare up at him. The pain was buried deep again, the ice-blue of her eyes shimmering. "You should've taken the ride," she mumbled as he passed.

Was that a cry for help? She never talked to him. Was Sakamoto asking for the same?  _'How am I supposed to help them? I... don't have a voice_.' Akira slipped into his seat and zoned in and out of lessons. He wasn't sure how he felt about receiving a chalk to the forehead on the first day of school. It felt almost like a bad omen.

Akira was still rubbing the stinging area when he walked out of classroom at the end of the school day. Maybe it was the rain, cleaning his eyes of their rose-tinted glaze; maybe he was finally paying attention to his surroundings. Whatever was happening to him, Akira noticed several students that had once been faceless to him. He’d only just learned that the girl in front of him was Takamaki Ann. Maybe he was meant to make friends this year so he could make memories in his final year worth taking with him.

"Excuse me..." a soft voice mumbled from behind him.

Akira almost jumped, quickly stepping out of the way. The shorter teen smiled meekly up at him from beneath unruly dark hair, almost cobalt in color. The bruise under his eye caught and kept Akira's attention.

 _Speak up_!

He opened his mouth, but the boy quickly scurried away. Akira stared after him until he disappeared to the end of the hall, ducking left into the hallway. He felt compelled to run after him, but he also didn't want to start drawing attention to himself. Maybe if he started with Sakamoto, things would fall into place from there. Bookstore. He said he'd seen him at the bookstore on Central Street.

Akira smiled, hoisting his school case higher. He hadn't seen Jou for a while, so it was time for a trip.

**xxx**

Akira's hands rose to make an exaggerated greeting, but the clerk was with a customer. A quick glance from Jou told Akira his presence had been acknowledged, however, and he decided to check the new releases to see if anything there caught his eye. After several minutes of browsing, the door whooshed open again and he peeked around the corner. Akira's eyes widened and he quickly ducked out of sight. Sakamoto was in the shop!

The blond walked up to the counter and waited his turn in line. Jou's face lit up after spotting the student. He excused himself and headed through the small side door.

Akira kept watch, wondering what Sakamoto had specially ordered. He banished the thought, telling him it was bordering on stalking. Technically, he  _was_  stalking.

Jou returned with a DVD case on top of a book. He placed them onto the counter and rang up the products. After being paid, he bagged the products and handed it over to his student customer. Sakamoto nodded his thanks, shoving the paper bag into his school case, and walked out as quietly as he'd walked in.

Akira peeked out from behind his bookcase hiding spot and was greeted with a laugh from Jou.

* * *

Sakamoto Ryuji, Takamaki Ann, Mishima Yuuki—they held his attention and Akira didn't know why. He wasn't a detective, and yet he felt compelled to find out why all three looked at him with desperation in their eyes, even if they themselves didn't know they were doing it. He also couldn’t help shake the feeling that all three were connected somehow.

Mishima continued to run from him and Takamaki was just so aloof, Akira got frostbite just  _thinking_  about addressing her. Sakamoto was his best bet, but it wasn’t hard for somebody to walk away from you when you couldn’t yell for them to stop.

Akira spotted the vibrant golden hair climbing the stairs after debarking the train. He squeezed his way through the throng of students, quickly hurrying after his target. Right where they’d first met, he grabbed Sakamoto’s arm, forcing the other teen to stop and glare at him. And boy, what a glare it was. The blond’s face spoke of death, but he didn’t seem prone to violent outburst, not to Akira.

Ryuji was simmering under his skin. Every day since  _that_  rainy day, he tried his hardest to avoid and ignore the school’s most untarnished student. Sure, there were a handful of students that still whispered about him, but Ryuji had never heard anything bad. That day he’d seen him in the bookstore was nothing but a coincidence, yet he couldn’t shake it from his mind. Kurusu’s face, alight with laughter. At school, he always seemed so withdrawn.

Ryuji attempted to free his hand from the brunet’s hold, but Kurusu was proving to have a very strong grip.

“ _I… saw… you_.”

Ryuji’s eyes widened after reading the moving lips. Had he been figured out? “What the hell are you goin’ on about?” Ryuji growled, pressing his free hand against the other’s chest. He pushed with everything he had, panting harshly as he stared down at the teen now sprawled on the sidewalk. ‘ _Let them hate me… not you!_ ’ New rumors would spread about him. Maybe Kurusu would even be whisked away to greener pastures.

With an agitated huff, Ryuji stormed ahead. He made sure no one’s eyes were on him before ducking down the nearby alley. It was after he made first turn that Ryuji remembered someone else knew this path as well. He was tackled to the ground, Kurusu’s entire body weight pinning him as the brunet sat on his chest. “What the fu—” A hand covered his mouth and Ryuji felt like his eyes would bulge out of his head.

 _Too loud_ , Akira mouthed, trying his hardest to keep Sakamoto’s mouth covered, while also keeping him pinned to the ground. Their uniforms would be filthy, but he wanted to get his question out before the other boy refused to speak to him ever again. Patting the blond’s chest with his free hand, he raised a finger to his lips after gaining his attention. The yelling could be heard even from under his hand, muffled just enough to keep anyone from trying to find the source of the noise.

Ryuji stilled after reading the question from Kurusu’s lips. “ _Do you… need my help?_ ”

**xxx**

_"Take off your jacket,” Sakamoto muttered, already shoving his in his bag. Akira fumbled to do the same, folding his in a neater manner. There was no hiding the checkered pattern of the school slacks, but they hoped that went unnoticed._

**-**

“Why are you so effin’ persistent?” Sakamoto growled, shoving a can at the quiet teen. He’d led them away from the school and back to the station. From there, they took a train to Shibuya. The Underground Mall was as good a place as any to look inconspicuous.

Akira accepted the drink, popping the tab to take a sip. Coffee. He smiled widely at the blond.

“I figured you’d be cold,” Sakamoto grumbled. “The weather doesn’t bother me that much.” He emptied his own can, a soda, and looked for someplace to toss it.

Akira frowned. “ _Recyclable_ ”, he reminded the other.

“No shit,” Sakamoto scoffed. He stalked up and down the passageways, Akira following close behind, eyes darting to and fro for the right bin. He found one and sunk his can in with a single shot.

Akira found himself clapping, his smile growing even wider.

Sakamoto scratched at his nose, glare ever-present. “You’re so effin’ weird. Why the hell am I here…?”

Akira placed his can into the recyclables bin, glad that he had the use of both arms again. He raised them, mouthing along with his signed words.  _I will agree. This is a weird situation. But I feel like helping you_.

“I don’t need nobody’s help.”

Akira cringed at the words coming from the boy’s mouth. ‘ _He knows ‘pariah’ but still talks like that_.’ With a sigh, he pulled out his dry erase board. Sakamoto could read his lips surprisingly well, but he had a lot to say and would spend more time signing than worrying about his lips forming the words. He’d never bothered before since no sound would ever pass them.

Ryuji slumped against the wall and watched as Kurusu wrote him an essay on his little board. Even though he hadn’t heard it—even though the words weren’t spoken to him, a voice still bounced around in his head.  _Do you need my help? Do you need my help?_  He unconsciously slid a hand down his right thigh, stopping just above the knee. Ryuji remembered the pain being so unbearable, he’d cried himself to sleep in his hospital bed, whispering, “ _I don’t wanna die_ …”

Had Kurusu seen that on his face?

Akira’s head snapped up, eyes landing on Sakamoto’s hand placement. As if realizing his actions were under scrutiny, the hand drew back and both slid into the pockets of the blond’s pants. He jotted down another question before handing the board over.

Reluctantly, it was accepted, and Sakamoto read the neat, if not hastily scribbled, handwriting. He mumbled aloud at some parts, scoffed at others.

 _You look angry. I know, everyone has a right to be angry, but sometimes that anger is misplaced. Yours isn’t. That day, you were chasing the car? Was she your friend? Is he your enemy? Did he… hurt you_?

Sakamoto’s breathing became labored, and Akira caught the board as it fell from the blond’s trembling fingers. Sakamoto dug his fingers into his short locks.

Akira heard clearly the one word he choked out, “ _Kamo…shida_!” He shoved the dry-erase board into his bag, but quickly realize he had no idea how to help. As quickly as he looked ready to tear  _anything_  in half, Sakamoto’s sudden burst of emotions waned and he sank to the floor, arms covering his head. Akira moved to his side and sat beside him, knees drawn up to his chest.

That was how the officers found them almost an hour later, and escorted them back to school.

It was lunchtime when they entered the building. All eyes were on them as they made their way through the halls and up to the Faculty office. Kawakami sent Akira back to class after warning him to never let Sakamoto lead him astray again. The exhausted and quiet blond was called into the office after Akira stepped out, the door slowly sliding close behind him.

Akira opened the door and stepped into his classroom, only to almost trip in his haste to back out. The leftover students that hadn’t gone to the cafeteria swarmed him, asking questions he  _couldn’t_  reply to. He held up his hands, trying to stave them off, but they continued questioning Sakamoto’s motives for hitting him and—kidnapping?!

“You’re overwhelming him,” a sharp voice cut through the clamor.

Akira breathed a deep sigh of relief as everyone slowly back away, their attention drawn elsewhere.

Takamaki Ann stood beside her desk, glaring at her classmates. “Did you forget he can’t answer you?” she scolded with no hint of remorse. “With everyone yelling at him, he won’t have a chance to even respond to  _one_  of you.” She turned that icy glare on Akira, but he no longer felt its chill. “And, you! If you don’t want to tell them what happened, write it on the chalkboard.”

Akira nodded obediently, moving on autopilot. He picked up a piece of chalk, but his hand stilled as a new set of whispers floated around him.

“Who does she think she is—”

“A foreigner like her—”

“Just because she’s Kamoshida’s girl—”

Akira pressed the chalk firmly against the green board, twisting it in place so harshly, dust fell back down to the tray. He didn’t need to look to know that Takamaki had taken a seat. One leg crossed over the other, head propped up by a fisted hand, she stared out the window. Akira knew it to be her favorite pastime. He dropped the chalk back into the long tray and quietly made his way back to his desk.

Someone was watching him; Akira knew the sensation well. He chanced a glance to the other side of the room and his suspicions were proven when Mishima jumped in his seat and looked away after their eyes met. 

 _Kamoshida_  was the source of their pain. 

* * *

Akira was stopped by Kawakami on his way out of the classroom. He glanced from the woman and back to the door other students disappeared through. If he didn’t go now, he would miss his chance.  

Kawakami obviously sensed his distress and sighed deeply, “I won’t keep you long. I told you everything I needed to at lunch, but I wanted to make sure you understand the severity of the situation. Just… stay out of trouble. Please?” She gave him a pleading look.

Akira nodded, signed a hasty  _goodbye_ , and hurried out of the room, stopping just shy of pushing students aside.

**-**

Ryuji froze in the doorway of his classroom, ignoring the angry voices at his back telling him to move. There was a second door. Kurusu stood against the opposite wall, his dry-erase board held high.  _SAKAMOTO RYUJI_  was written on it in thick, flowing characters. “You’re not at an airport!” Ryuji shouted before he could stop himself. The brunet lowered the board, his smile amused and his eyes bright with laughter.

The blond stepped out into the hallway, following his classmates with every intention of ignoring the boy that walked casually at his side. Kurusu scribbled away on his board, avoiding others with some special six sense. Ryuji wondered if he could lose him in the crowd when he noticed two pairs of eyes watching them from the distance.

Before Akira could hand over his messages, he was roughly shoved. The students were few, but enough to separate him and his mark. Akira’s eyes widened and he stopped in the middle of the floor, watching Sakamoto duck down the nearby hallway that led to the Practice Building. What kept him from giving chase was the fact that he witnessed the blond  _signing_. Or maybe he hadn’t. Regardless, it looked distinctly like the sign for “roof”. If Sakamoto was going through the Practice Building, it would take him a few extra moments before he reached the roof. Akira decided to see what the library had for him to borrow. 

With "The Great Thief" tucked away in his bag, Akira made his way to the opposite end of the hall and climbed the appropriate stairwell. Ignoring the “off-limits” sign taped to the metal door once he reached his highest point, he pushed it open and walked out onto the roof. Akira’s hands twitched to sign, but he recalled the bookstore clerk’s reaction when he got ahead of himself in assuming.

"Took you long enough." Sakamoto sat behind a clutter of desks in a single chair, idly rocking on the back legs. “I totally gave myself away, didn’t I…?” He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “At least you saw it.”

 _Bookstore_? Akira signed slowly.

Sakamoto’s eyebrows shot upward and he settled the chair flat on the ground. Akira shook his head frantically and fished out his board. He erased his previous messages and jotted down new ones.

Ryuji accepted the board, hesitantly taking his eyes from the brunet to read it.  _I wasn’t stalking you. I went in to see the clerk and saw that you bought something_. He handed it back with a soft scoff, “Yeah. I was impulsive and wanted to know more about… sign language.”

Akira jotted down a new question, holding up the board so it could be read.  _To talk to me_?

“Maybe,” Sakamoto muttered, averting his gaze.

Akira set the dry-erase board down on one of the desks to free his hands. Keeping his lips pressed together, he signed,  _Thank you_.

“Whatever,” Sakamoto muttered. “You’re welcome,” he added in a much lower voice.

Akira sank into a crouch, his face buried in his hands. Jou told him to be on the lookout, but he never thought who he was meant to be looking for would  _come to him_. And in the form of a ‘pariah’ after all. He laughed silently into his palms, body shuddering with repressed happiness. Someone… he could finally talk to. Someone who was willing to talk to him! He scrubbed fiercely at his eyes before springing to his feet.

Sakamoto made an over-dramatic display of looking in the opposite direction.

Akira ignored his behavior in favor of signing slowly and mouthing along.  _I would like for us to have a serious talk now. You might not approve of the subject, but it will good for both of us_.

Ryuji alternated his eyes between Kurusu’s hands and his lips. He recognized a few gestures, but was also trying to learn new ones. He pulled himself from his slouched position to sit up straight in the chair.  _Kamoshida_.

 _I don’t know Kamoshida_ —

Ryuji waved a hand, stopping the brunet’s silent speech. “You don’t know… Kamoshida? He’s the school P.E. teacher. He thinks he owns the fu—effin’ school. How do you not…?”

Akira bent forward towards his dry-erase board, wiping it clean with the sleeve of his uniform jacket so he could write again. Once he was done, he pushed it in Ryuji’s direction.  _My lovely disability allows me to not attend that class. I usually wait in the library since it’s not that fun to watch_.

“But he’s the talk of the school! Good  _and_  bad talk! I’m sure that bastard’s the reason why we’re having that volleyball rally in a couple days. You won’t be able to avoid that…”

Akira found an unused corner of his board,  _can we talk about the BAD_?

“Did you hear  _anything_  else I said?” Sakamoto sputtered.

Akira shook his head with a small smile, mouthing, “ _Irrelevant_.”

“It’s really not,” the blond sighed, slumping down in the chair. “If you want the bad… He treats everyone like shit. He’s a disgusted, perverted asshole. And these aren’t my own personal opinions…” Sakamoto pushed the front leg of the chair off the ground, once again balancing on the back. “The only people that say he’s good are the useless teachers riding his coattails because the volleyball team is the pride and joy of Shujin,” he ground out through gritted teeth.

“The same team they boast about suffer injuries no normal student should…” Ryuji unconsciously reached for his right leg, drawing his hand back at the last second.

Akira noticed. His hands gripped the edges of his dry-erase board tightly as he forced himself not to comment on it. He finally had Sakamoto talking and he didn’t want to make him shut down again after bringing up something unnecessary. He wiped the board clean with furious swipes, jotting down a new message. Sakamoto’s hand spread over his whiteboard’s glossy surface, stopping him from writing anything, and erasing what was already there.

“If you wanna see that bastard for yourself, the volleyball rally is the place for that.”

Akira lifted the obstructing hand away, scribbling a small message in the message of previous ones. He pulled the board back to his chest to add more.  _Can I hang out with you? Can I call you Ryuji? I call you Sakamoto in my head_.

“If you want to end your social career… Do whatever you want.” With a scoff, Ryuji looked away from the bright smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo. Trying to decide if I wanna de-anon on this or not...  
> Also. No relationships. I see the "&" and think friendship. So... friendship is magic! And I gave the bookstore employee a name :3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this half wobbled a little as far as certain scenes go, but... I hope you guys can still find it enjoyable.

The volleyball rally was his  _in_.

Akira was the last one to show up to the gymnasium—unless there were other late students, he couldn’t say. He forgot his jersey at home, and hopped back onto the train to retrieve it. When he made it to class, Kawakami was walking out. She sighed and allowed him to change, also stating that she wouldn’t be waiting.

Opening the door to the gymnasium, Akira’s eyes found Ryuji in a back corner. A perfect location, away from all the noise. He walked along the back wall, waving when Ryuji finally noticed him. The blond rolled his eyes and resumed his slouched position, elbows braced against his thighs. Akira sank onto the floor next to him just as an unlucky student fell to the court thanks to a poor receive of a spike.

Kamoshida's spike.

Akira’s eyes followed the tall, imposing figure as he returned to the circle of teachers that made up one team. Everyone praised him for his achievements, past and present related. Akira looked away, interest piqued after realizing it was Mishima that had fallen. The small teen rose on his own accord, no one offering him assistance.

The next set began and Akira sat up straight. All eyes had been trained on Mishima before the whistle blew. With each encouraging shout on the opposite side of the net from Kamoshida, Mishima took small, tentative steps backward, almost trying to avoid anyone’s attention. Ryuji mumbled something beside him, but Akira couldn’t bring himself to look away.

Kamoshida’s spike echoed above the squeals from the female spectators after he slammed his hand against the volleyball. The gym quieted when the ball connected with Mishima’s face, low murmurs rolling around after the boy fell to the court and appeared unresponsive. Akira’s gaze snapped to the net and the man behind it, responsible for the injury.

Kamoshida showed no remorse, not even surprise. In fact—as his gaze swept around the gym, Akira realized only a handful of girls looked concerned. Even the members of Mishima’s team stood around, responding only when Kamoshida shouted for a nurse.

Akira tore his eyes from the horrifying exhibition and found Ryuji staring up at him from his crossed arms. The blond radiated with “I told you” vibes, but he was in no way smug about it. Akira lifted his hands, but found himself unable to sign. He was at a loss for words

**xxx**

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Akira excused himself after Mishima was whisked away, walking the halls in a daze. His mood only worsened when he realized things went much deeper than an accidental injury during practice. There were more broken limbs and bandaged heads than you’d find at a hospital. How was the school turning a blind eye to such vulgar behavior? Do they not realize their prided volleyball team won’t be able to make Nationals if there is  _no team_?

Unmindful of where his wanderings took him, Akira bumped into another. He was snapped out of his reverie by a pained cry. Mishima stood beside him, gently holding the shoulder of his left arm. The long sleeve of his uniform was rolled up, revealing bandages around his forearm. Whether or was from the rally or something else, Akira doubt he would find out.

Mishima turned to find his assaulter and his dark brown eyes widened. He took a few staggering steps away.

 _Speak up_!

Akira grabbed the hem of his shirt, not wanting to inflict anymore unnecessary pain, and silently pleaded with Mishima not to run. Their moment was almost ruined when the man of the hour himself made an appearance.

Mishima subtly moved closer to Akira’s side and Akira had to stop himself from extending an arm to protect him from the teacher.

“Mishima,” Kamoshida started, nonchalance making his voice even more bland to Akira’s ears, “Isn’t it time for practice?”

Mishima averted his gaze, pressing his wounded arm against his chest. “I’m sorry.” He stumbled through the apology. “Kurusu actually asked for my help, and I didn’t want to turn him down. We’re in the same class. If that’s… okay,” he added softly.

Kamoshida’s eyes raked over his frame, from top to bottom, then back again. Akira clenched his hand in the material of Mishima’s top, feeling naked and on display like a slab of meat.

“Helping the unfortunate doesn’t really get you anywhere,” the man scoffed, hands on his hips. “If you miss the next practice, you might as well quit the team. You’ll be doing suicide drills—flying falls until  _I_ get tired—for missing this one.” With that said, Kamoshida turned and strutted back down the hall from whence he’d came.

Mishima dropped his arm back to his side, a hollow laugh escaping him. “Why did I say that? There’s no point. Everybody knows. The principal, our parents,” Mishima continued, eyes growing darker as he revealed the sad truth of their school, “They all know about the physical abuse and they all keep quiet about it.” He glanced over his shoulder when the weight fell from his shirt and found Akira gaping at him, eyes wide.

Mishima wanted to tell the quiet teen to leave him alone; he couldn’t understand the hardships he had to deal with. But he was instantly reminded that Kurusu probably experienced a hardship worse than any deliberate volleyball to the face. ‘ _I have a voice, but I don’t speak out_ …’ Mishima stared at the bandages wrapped around his forearm. He would most likely be hospitalized if Kamoshida found out, but that thought didn’t stop him from asking, “…can you really help?”

**xxx**

That night, Akira sent his first text to Ryuji, after wheedling the number out of the blond.  _I found a new member for our club of misfits_.

 **Ryuji:**   _Don’t involve me in your stupid shit_!

Akira smiled and sent off a winking emoji just to provoke the blond even more.

* * *

The following day was pretty much uneventful. Ryuji was back to avoiding him. Mishima was treating his wounds—literally and metaphorically. He touched the bandages wrapped around his head with a wince and a smile. “I actually prefer flying falls as a punishment. This was… Someone missed their shot.”

‘ _They didn’t_!’ Akira wanted to go to the volleyball court and scream at everyone down there for being bullies and cowards. He wanted to be able to do something other than mime and wave his hands around. He wanted to sit with Mishima, Ryuji, and maybe even Ann and have a “normal” conversation.

Mishima obviously saw his frustration and more, because the smaller teen held up both hands placatingly. “Hey. No. Kurusu.  _I_  should be the one crying. I’m fine, I promise. This… will work out in the end.” He grinned widely. “I feel confident that it will. And I’m never confident about anything!” Mishima laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Akira managed a weak smile for his classmate.

**xxx**

On his way home from school that afternoon, Akira stumbled across Takamaki Ann curled in a ball just inside the Ginza platform. She lifted her head and he found himself enraptured by those ice-blue eyes. They were full of emotion, shining brightly with unshed tears. Her scowl relaxed after meeting his eye, and she unfolded from her crouched position in the middle of the platform. The light in her eyes was slowly fading and he didn’t want that.

Akira stepped towards her and Ann mirrored his movements. With a sob, she stumbled into his open arms and Akira enveloped her in a gentle embrace.

**-**

It took them a few minutes longer to reach the diner on central street, but soon they were both seated at a table near the window. Two glasses of water and the students were left to their own devices. The afternoon sun shone through the window at Ann’s back, creating an almost ethereal glow around the blonde.

Ann hugged her arms at the elbows, both flat on the surface of the table. After a few moments in that position, she shifted, lifting a hand to cup a cheek and keep her head propped up. “Who… are you?” she asked softly.

Akira blinked, cocking his head to one side. He held up his right hand, fingers curled into a fist save for the index, and wagged that digit back and forth a few times.  _What_?

Ann’s smile was gentle and she averted her eyes to the napkin at her elbow. “I see you. With Ry—Sakamoto, and Mishima. You talk to the that girl on our classroom hallway. I think she belongs to the press club.” She lifted her gaze to stare up at the brunet from beneath her eyelashes. “Do you really think you can help?”

“ _I like to think I can_ ,” Akira mouthed. He turned away to rummage through his bag for his whiteboard. When he turned back around, Ann was leaning forward in interest, her hands folded atop the table once again as she waited. He smiled and began writing.  _You stood up for me that day in the classroom. No one’s there to stand up for you. I_ — Akira drew a long line from his last character to the edge of the board. He wiped clean and attempted to finish his sentence.  _This is not pity. I would truly like to help_.

Ann sighed deeply, sitting back in the booth. “Where were you last year?” she murmured. “My friend, Shiho… She was one of Kamoshida’s.” Her eyes narrowed in a glare. “Victim doesn’t suit her, but we all are, aren’t we? He threatened to take her starting position away from her if she didn’t…” Ann trailed off.

Akira’s eyes were wide, his hands gripping the sides of his whiteboard. Ann startled at the loud crack, and they both stared in surprise at the two pieces Akira held separately.

Ann recovered first, tossing a pigtail over her shoulder with a giggle. “Thank you.” She inhaled, huffing out the drawn breath. “Shiho transferred schools before anything could happen. The entire school suffered because of it, but nobody did anything. So many students were hospitalized…” Ann closed her eyes. “You’ve heard the rumors… haven’t you?”

Akira lightly tapped the table to get her attention. He shook his head once that bright-eyed gaze focused on him.

Ann smiled, the gesture weary. “His advances towards me started once he was in control of the school again. He keeps pushing and pushing. I’m glad Shiho’s no longer here so he can’t use her against me.” She trailed a finger through the condensation gathered on the untouched glass of water, letting the droplets fall onto the napkin. The tissue wrinkled. Her smile wavered. “I can’t take it anymore…”

Akira averted his gaze to the window before looking back down at his broken whiteboard.

“What should I do…?” Ann whimpered, tears falling freely down her face.

Akira lifted his broken whiteboard and looked between the two pieces before smiling at the blonde.

**xxx**

The bookstore clerk called out the usual greeting after the door chime went off. He paused in listing off their new sales when he saw his customer, lifting his hands instead.  _Welcome, best customer_.

Akira made his way from the door to the counter. Once there, he fished out the pieces of his whiteboard and held them up with a wide grin.

“What happened?” Jou asked incredulously, holding out his hands for the pieces.

Akira handed them over, signing his response since his hands were now free.  _I got excited. Didn’t realize I was so strong_.

The shop clerk gave him a skeptical glance, rolling his eyes. In doing so, he noticed that his favorite customer had brought along a guest. Ann smiled after being spotted. She freed one hand from the pocket of her jacket to offer a small wave.

Jou gave Akira his attention, shaking the whiteboard at him. “Go take a look at our new books and I’ll get a new board. Maybe we have something sturdier.”

Akira signed a quick  _thank you_. Ann joined him after a little bit of browsing, and the two pointed out books to each other with weird titles or covers. The shop clerk called them back to the counter, waving the sealed whiteboard proudly.

Ann stepped in front of Akira when he moved to pay. He protested, silently reaching around her, but she held out an arm to keep him away from the register. Ann flashed the clerk a brilliant smile. “I was the reason he broke his old one, so I’ll pay for it.”

 

Akira peeled the plastic off his new whiteboard just outside the bookstore. He stuffed the trash into his pocket before snapping the pen from its hook. With renewed energy, he wrote his message as big as the confined space would allow and held the board up for Ann to see.

 _I HAVE A PLAN_.

* * *

“You  _don’t_  have a plan,” Ryuji scoffed, kicking the nearest desk before slumping into the single chair. “And how the hell did we form a club?!” His glare was directed at the two others that now inhabited the roof with him and Akira. “We don’t need Kamoshida’s girl ratting us out…”

Ann’s eyes widened, blazing sky blue in rage, and she took a threatening step forward. “Ryuji!”

“Don’t—!” Ryuji sprang up from the chair, mimicking her angry stance. “What, Takamaki?! We haven’t talked since middle school! Why should things change now? In fact…” He threw his arms up in frustration with a shake of his head. “Why am I even here?  _Nothing’s_  going to change…”

Mishima moved in front of the one door that led in and out of the roof to block Ryuji’s escape. “Takamaki is—Those rumors aren’t true.” He looked away from the murderous brown eyes, finding solace in Akira’s calm yet worried gaze. “ _I_  have a plan. It involves all of you,” Akira, Ann, and Ryuji fell under his wandering gaze, “Spending time together. Kamoshida needs to notice Kurusu. I’m sorry for saying this, Takamaki, because no human should be owned, but Kamoshida needs to think they’re taking you away from him.

“Ignore him. Avoid him at school. The volleyball team will suffer,” Mishima smiled, a tight press of his lips into a thin line, “But he’ll start falling apart. Kurusu, that’s when you step in.”

As Mishima’s words sank in, the small group of students slowly realized, they  _did_  have a plan. Mishima slumped against the door, breathing out a sigh of relief.

**xxx**

The plan was underway, starting... now. Akira signed an apology to Ryuji, but used the board to explain he would spend the afternoon with Ann.  _You saw me for two weeks_. He held out the whiteboard with a grin, only to have it wither off his face when Ryuji showed no outward reaction to his quip. Akira's smile wavered, but he tried not to let his sadness show. Whatever happened between Ann and Ryuji was their business. He just hoped they could overcome it for the sake of destroying a man mad with power.

Akira signed  _later_  far less energetically than he normally would have, stuffing his whiteboard into his school case as he walked away. Ann waited for him at the corner. Together, they would walk through the Practice Building; through the courtyard and past the gym. This was also part of Mishima's plan. The more sports members that saw them together, the more likely someone would tell Kamoshida.

Akira also made sure to sign all his conversations, even if he didn’t mouth along with them. Ann probably didn't understand anything, but she played along and made small talk with him as they moved from hall to hall. As they passed through the courtyard on their way back to the classroom building, Ann slowed, staring at the seating area just to the right of them. Akira watched her eyes turn sea-green again, clouded by emotions he was not privy to.

Ann blinked away the past and faced him with a bright smile. "I'm okay," she whispered. "I should probably text Shiho tonight and see how things are progressing with the new volleyball club."

 _We should go see one of her games_ , Akira signed with a hopeful look on his face.

"Of course,” Ann responded kindly. “She invites me all the time."

Akira tilted his head, wondering if he'd mouthed along with his hands. Pressing his lips tightly together, he tried again,  _can you understand me_?

"A little bit," Ann replied with a smile and a wink.

Akira's heart was still full from knowing Ryuji was learning for him. It now overflowed after learning that Ann probably understand half of the things he signed. Thinking back on it now, a lot of her responses had been on par with his own.

"Don't cry," Ann laughed. How was Akira not supposed to cry when she  _signed_  the statement?

**-**

Their actions were less a show and more a blossoming friendship when they walked out through the front gates of Shujin. 

* * *

 Ann was a fan of browsing through the Underground Mall.

Ryuji liked walking Central Street. Today was his day. Akira eased his way into the arcade near the end of the street and tried not to let his excitement show after spotting Ryuji amongst others. He'd never had anyone to hang out with other than family, so this was a new experience.

"Yo," Ryuji mumbled, signing a lazy  _hello_. Akira bit back his grin, signing a greeting in response. "We don't have to stay, if you don't want..."

The dark head shook so vehemently, Akira's curls bounced.  _I've never been_ , Akira signed. He mouthed it after realizing Ryuji probably couldn't keep up with his excited hands.  _Show me_!

"Like hell," Ryuji scoffed. "Pick a machine and listen to the instructions."

' _Both of us_!' Akira waggled his index fingers.

"I know you're not asking 'what'. You want me to join you?"

Akira grunted softly as he nodded his head, surprising the blond. He pouted over having to use his whiteboard when they were getting along so well, but he had a lot to say.  _I can make noises, but nothing serious. It's like I'm coughing or sneezing. Both of which I've never done in your presence. I feel like going out in the rain now to catch a co_ —

"Stop writing," Ryuji snapped, snatching the pen from Akira's hand.

Akira grinned sheepishly, wiping away his scribbled words with the sleeve of his school jacket. He stuffed the board back into his bag, already looking around to see if anything looked interesting enough to catch his eye. Feeling the pressure on his shoulder, he glanced back to see Ryuji tucking the pen into a side pocket of his bag. Akira smiled his thanks.

With Ryuji at his side, they walked the arcade, watching others play or just checking out the different games. Akira finally settled on something after several long minutes.

**-**

Ryuji never thought he’d find himself dragging Kurusu Akira out of an arcade. Akira wasted too much money on the Jack Frost crane game before Ryuji found him, and put up quite a fight when he tried to get him to let go of the analog stick. Ironically enough, their wrestling caused a fluke win, and Akira was the proud owner of a Jack Frost doll.

Akira tucked his plush toy away into his school case after the waitress brought his Comet Burger (of course, he had to take the Big Bang Challenge).

After fifteen minutes, Ryuji grew tired of watching Akira eat a giant burger. He stretched out his right leg before gingerly bringing it back. Akira never asked. He pushed his way into Ryuji’s life, but never past those invisible boundaries. Maybe it was time to show him a bit of trust and offer just the smallest grain of truth. "Me and Takamaki were a one-time thing."

Akira stalled in his bite of the burger, but chomped down with even more vigor after realizing that Ryuji was sharing.

“We knew each other in middle school. I guess… we were friends? I asked her for a favor and she came through." Ryuji leaned his head back, staring at the world beyond the window in an upside-down state. "When I heard the rumor that she was with that bastard, I never stopped to question it and labeled her as an enemy." Ryuji sprang back into an upright position, slamming a fist on the table.

Startled, Akira almost dropped his burger. Instead, he squeezed it so tightly, a piece of tomato slid out and landed on the plate.

"Sorry," Ryuji groaned, drawing his hand back and letting it fall into his lap. "I'm just... Why am I telling you my whole life story? You just feel... disgustingly comfortable to be around."

Akira looked from Ryuji to his hamburger, then back.

A smirk tugged at the blond's lips. "Need your hands, eh? Finish eating. I'll enjoy the silence."

Akira's pout was brief before he took a bite from his oversized burger. 

**-**

"Where the hell did you put that...?" Ryuji murmured in awe. He reached out a hand, poking the brunet in the side of his stomach.

Akira danced away, swatting at the hand. He mimed throwing up, not even bothering with a sign.

Ryuji snorted before throwing his head back with a laugh, "Serves you right! Did you think you'd gain superpowers shoving that humongous thing down your throat?! You got a badge!"

Akira blushed bright red. Not from Ryuji's comment, but because the scandalized looks they received from passerby. Ryuji didn’t even seem to notice them, or even his verbal faux pas. Akira ducked his head, chin touching his chest, and sped up.

"H-hey!" Ryuji stumbled after him, still laughing.

Akira froze suddenly, his head snapping up, eyes wide in realization. Ryuji. Was. Laughing. He turned, watching the blond catch up with him. Ryuji wiped stray tears from his eyes as he stopped beside him, and Akira found himself smiling. Ryuji's grin was as bright as his hair, and very pleasant to stare at. He shook his head and playfully shoved the other teen with his shoulder.

Ryuji cracked open an eye long enough to regard him.

 _Let's walk around the station_ , Akira signed. He patted his stomach with a lopsided smile. Ryuji's laughter started anew as the teens walked out of central street to the Station Square. 

**xxx**

_I asked her for a favor and she came through_.

Sitting cross-legged in his bed, Ryuji stared at his phone. More specifically, the contact he had up on the screen. ' _I guess... I should return the favor_.' With a frustrated sigh, he stabbed the CALL icon. After a few rings, Ryuji huffed out. “Takamaki. Sorry… for calling so late.”

* * *

Akira would be lying if he didn't skip into homeroom on Saturday. Ann perked up after he did, pulling her phone from her jacket pocket. She waited until he was seated at the desk before turning in her chair to show him a series of texts. "Evidence," she giggled. The texts were obviously from Kamoshida, even though the contact name did not reflect that. The messages ranged from benign to downright foul and explicit. Even threatening.

"I think he's losing his cool, just like Mishima said. If he stopped to think for a minute that all this could be used against him. There is voicemail as well." Ann tucked her phone back into her pocket with a smug smirk, crossing one leg over the other. "Mishima—"

As if summoned, the small teen stumbled into the classroom, righting himself with a wince. His gaze swept to the far side of the room and he weaved between students and desk to reach Ann and Ryuji. Ann covered her mouth. Mishima's injuries were frightful. The area surrounding his right eye was black and swollen. The left had a butterfly closure across the brow, holding the broken skin shut. There was an adhesive bandage running across his nose and they could only imagine what it hid. There were red marks on his skin, just visible over the top of the uniform's high neck. And this was only what they could see.

"Why aren't you in the hospital?" Ann gasped.

"I'll go next week." Mishima grinned weakly. "Kurusu! We have to do it today.  _Now_.”

“ _Why_?” Akira mouthed, already out of his seat.

“Sakamoto found out that one of the track team members is in the hospital. His leg… is broken.” Mishima clenched his fists at his side. “I don’t think he liked the guy, but…” 

Akira was angry at himself that it took so long to put the pieces together. The ace member of the track team that was thrown so far from grace—it was Ryuji!

**-**

Akira entered the PE faculty office just in time to throw himself between Ryuji and Kamoshida. The blond’s fist stopped inches from his face, the punch originally meant for the cocky man with his hands on his hips. “Why’re are you stoppin’ me?!” Ryuji growled. “This is what we wanted!”

Akira wished he had a voice now. He pushed the trembling teen away and could only hope Ryuji paid attention to his lips. “ _It’s not! You can’t let him get to you!_  Ryuji!”

“Oh?” a voice hummed from behind Akira, making the brunet jump. Akira spun around, backing up to where Ryuji stood. He’d forgotten they were in the lair of the beast.

Kamoshida’s gaze flickered between them both and he slowly crossed his arms over his chest, cocking his head high enough that he looked down his noses haughtily at them. “What a surprise,” Kamoshida chuckled. “I didn’t think anyone cared enough about you, Sakamoto, but you two have been spending more time lately. I've heard the rumors. Are you being threatened, Kurusu?”

“Don’t talk to him! And don’t… Don’t say my name, you bastard,” Ryuji hissed, fists trembling as he kept himself restrained.

“It doesn’t matter,” Kamoshida scoffed, heading back to his abandoned swivel chair. “You attacked me. I’ll have you expelled.”

 _He didn’t touch you_! Akira signed angrily, spitting the words out silently. He faced Ryuji, eyes pleading to not be lied to as he asked,  _Did you_?

“I wanted to punch him, yeah,” Ryuji scoffed. “But you stopped me before I could lay him out.”

“That’s right. Your friend’s mute. This works in my favor so well. You have no witnesses,” Kamoshida chuckled darkly as he jotted down notes, possibly an incident report. “Maybe I should act in self-defense after all.”

When Ryuji’s hand slid down his right thigh, everything clicked into place for Akira. He took a deep breath and pointed to the door. “ _Leave_ ,” he mouthed. Ryuji started to protest, but Akira shook his head.  _Leave_ , he signed, the motion sharp.

Ryuji stared deep into those metallic gray eyes and saw all that he needed.  _Stay safe_ , he signed before walking out of the office.

 

Kamoshda heard shuffling behind him and was surprised to see the disabled kid stayed behind. He still had a little bit of frustration left. Would it be wrong…?

Akira stood tall as Kamoshida towered over him.

A smirk warped onto the man's face, making him appear more twisted than he already was, and empty eyes roved over his body. "If you were a girl... You'd be perfect. You wouldn't be able to scream. Everyone else does, but the students at this school are so dumb, they never question what’s happening in here. I did use to punish them for their pathetic mistakes at practice and games, but then… it became a nice outlet for my anger."

Akira felt his stomach churn, but he held his revulsion down; he couldn't show any signs of weakness. He ran out of the classroom without his board, so he had to resort to signing. Not expecting the response he received, he had no time to react as his hands were snatched out of the air and he was pinned to the wall of the sports office by his wrists. His heart hammered against his ribcage and Akira found it hard to breathe.

"Just do what you do best—stay silent.” Kamoshida leaned down while lifting the boy a few inches from the floor so they could see eye to eye. “I feel like this is your fault. You stole Ann from me. You’re giving that piece of shit Sakamoto a reason to live. I broke his leg and took away his future because it was  _my time to shine again_!”

Akira cried out after being thrown to the floor, righting himself enough to scramble backwards.

“Looks like you attacked me, too,” Kamoshida chuckled, taking a menacing step towards the teen. “How should I react?”

Akira drew his knees up to his chest, hugging his legs close.

“You’re pathetic enough as is,” Kamoshida laughed, the sound rattling around inside of Akira’s head as a warning. “If you act up again, I'll have you expelled right along with that piece of shit Sakamoto. And tell Ann she better come see me after school.”

Akira found a surge of inner strength at the mention of his friends and gritted his teeth, climbing back onto his feet. When he faced Kamoshida, he carried with him the anger and betrayal of those that had been wronged by the disgusting adult. He smiled, eyes shadowed by unruly bangs. Akira almost wondered whose voice it was that echoed throughout the small room. Just a whisper of a word, but it carried volume. " _No_."

"What did you say?!" the P.E. teacher roared, turning back around.

 _Nothing_ , Akira signed, his lips pressed tight into a spiteful smile,  _I can't speak_. With a silent laugh, he walked out as quickly as he could. Kamoshida couldn't lay a hand on him now that others could see him, or so he hoped. Akira reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. The call to Mishima was still ongoing, and he breathed a sigh of relief before pushing the required key sequence. Seconds later, the call ended. Hopefully, Mishima had everything he needed now.

**xxx**

Akira had no recollection of his classes for the remainder of the day.

When the final bell sounded, some of the students of class 2-3 were rudely pushed aside as Ryuji stormed into the room. He practically leapt over desks to reach the window row. Ann placed a hand to his shoulder to keep him from overwhelming the seated Akira. “He’s fine,” she whispered. “Just… I think he’s suffering from shock.”

“If that bastard did anything…”

Akira pulled himself from his stupor long enough to acknowledge Ryuji. His eyes fell to Ann’s hand on his shoulder and Akira grinned. “ _You two made up_?” he mouthed, signing along.

“ _That’s_  what you focus on,” Ryuji scoffed. He didn’t step away from Ann’s touch, letting her hand slid away on its own when she pulled it back. “Did he do anything to you?”

Akira pulled his whiteboard from his bag, surprised that it wasn’t on his desk, and wrote.  _I completed the Big Bang Challenge! Doesn’t that mean I’m tough enough to face off against Kamoshida_?

“No,” Ann giggled. She found she laughed more often around Akira.

Ryuji rolled his eyes. “You know there are two more challenges, right?”

Akira’s eyes widened, filled with the excitement of a new adventure.  _Let’s do it_! he signed. As he packed his school case, he realized there was nothing they could do except wait. Why stress over a has-been when there was a Gravity Burger calling his name?

**-**

Ann never paid a visit to Kamoshida that afternoon. If anyone wanted to find her, they would have had to go to Big Bang Burger. Cellphone propped up, Ann recorded the entire thirty minutes it took Akira to eat the twice-as-large-as-the-first sandwich.

After receiving his prize, Akira pulled out the previous Badge from his bag. He stared at them both before coming to a final decision. Akira faced his  _friends_ , his fisted hands held out towards them. He shook his hands with a soft whine, grinning when they opened their hands beneath his. Akira uncurled his fists and the badges fell out. Ryuji got First Officer. Ann got Second Officer. He made a vow to annihilate the Cosmo Tower burger and claim the Captain badge as his own.

Ryuji stared at the small object sitting in the palm of his hand. He shoved it in his pocket after a while, ignoring the elation he felt over having been giving a present. He hid his joy of having  _friends_  with a scowl, but little did he know; he wasn’t fooling anyone.

 

‘ _I’ll have to think of something special to get Mishima_.’ As they headed down Central Street, back to the Station Square, Akira pulled his whiteboard from his school case. Jotting down a quick message, he walked backwards so he could hold it up for the others to see, stopping when Ryuji grumbled he was moving too much.  _Do you think Mishima likes stuffed animals_?

“Mishima’s a nerd,” Ryuji muttered. “Computer or video games are probably his thing. And you’re not going back to the arcade to waste your money.”

Ann finished attaching her badge to her school case and gave it a pat. “We can take him to Akihibara. After…” Her smile was hopeful.

After the downfall of Kamoshida Suguru.

Akira tucked his whiteboard beneath his arm and signed,  _Sounds like a plan. I’ve never been_.

Ryuji looked to Ann, hands repeating Akira’s motions; there were signs he'd never seen before. “What…?” he inquired. She translated for him, moving her hands slowly so he could associate the movements with the right words.

Their attention was drawn back to the brunet after hearing soft noises. Akira was laughing; the widest grin spread across his face, he emitted soft huffing noises. Without giving them any time to think about it, Akira launched himself at the two blondes, arms wrapped as far around them as they could go, drawing everyone into a tight group hug. Ryuji’s loud protests fell on deaf ears, only making Akira squeeze tighter.  _We all helped each other_!

Their plan would succeed and the tyrant king would be kicked out of his own castle. Nothing to fear.

**-**

The clerk of Taiheido bookstore watched the exchange through the glass windows facing Central Street. He looked forward to the next time they all visited together. With a soft chuckle, Jou tore his gaze from the heartwarming scene to attend to his next customer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only the Castle of Lust falls, though. Sorry. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I had fun writing it. I actually learned a few Japanese signs along the way... which I find look so much more fun than ASL *likes them both the same*


End file.
